


What I Wish I Knew About You.

by Pansys_goth_gf



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heavy Angst, How Do I Tag, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Not Really Character Death, Other, Post videogame, Sam is trying her best, Suicide, slight gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 20:29:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17925815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pansys_goth_gf/pseuds/Pansys_goth_gf
Summary: Sam got out.Sam never really got out.Sam wishes she didn't get out.





	What I Wish I Knew About You.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is pretty dark, and it does involve gore, mentions of suicide and death. The mental health professionals in this are NOT examples of real life therapists, and I do suggest therapy as an option if you experience any negative emotions. Hope you enjoy!

What I Wish I Knew About You.  
(Until Dawn)

 

Blood. Smoke. A face that was more skull and mangled flesh than human. His eyes, staring straight threw her.

These were the things Sam saw each night, the images that haunted her tired brain. She didn’t sleep much anymore, hell she barely slept at all. 

Two years ago, Sam saw things that she would never in her life un-see. She went to a cabin with her seven best friends and left, the sole survivor. She could still smell the rot that accompanied the wendigos everywhere they went. She could still feel the fire that burnt away Mike. Some mornings, when the earth was still quiet and the dew freshly coated her lawn, she could hear them. Mike and Jessica flirting in the hallway. Emily and Matt bickering in the living room. The stunted way Chris spoke to Ashley, and her warm responses. The twins, softer than the rest, in their own special world. And him. 

He was everywhere around her. He was in the kitchen, cringing at her green smoothie she made each morning. He was at the grocery store, pushing her cart and putting in Cheetos when she wasn’t looking. He was even at the gym, sitting next to the rock wall she could no longer climb.

Josh.

It took twelve meetings with Dr. Hill to say that name out loud. 

She was at his funeral. She hugged his mother and shook his father’s hand. She watched as they put three empty caskets in the Washington plot. It took twelve whole weeks for the rescue crew to find his body, or what was left of it.

“They found Josh’s head.”

She had never been very comfortable with Dr. Hill. He was to harsh, at times, and almost creepy. She knew he had been Josh’s therapist after the twins disappeared. She knew he was the only therapist that would understand her “unique” situation. It took twelve weeks and a frozen head for that to matter at all.

“I heard. How are you dealing with that Samantha?” She hated being called her full name. He knew she hated being called her full name. He kept talking as if he didn’t. “It can’t be easy for you, to fully come to terms with everything that happened.”

Sam scoffed, standing up from the stiff chair in the doctor’s office. “No shit Sherlock. The wendigos got to him, and probably after we left the mountains so someone could’ve rescued him. I could’ve saved him if I could’ve just stayed a few more hours.”

Dr. Hill raised his eyebrows and looked at her in a way that Josh would’ve hated. Old man doesn’t know who he’s messing with, he would have said. Sam is Wonder Woman, but with better hair.

A small laugh escaped her lips when she thought of that. Josh liked to try and compare them all to characters. Dr. Hill said it was about his game, but Sam liked to think there was some of her Josh left when he said things like that.

“Josh’s death was unavoidable. There are no such things as Wendigo. Josh Washington died from blunt force trauma to the temple, and his body was eaten by bears. Samantha, none of this was your fault. You were the victim of horrifying psychological torment, and several major loses. I want to up your anti-depressants, and I’m asking you don’t stay alone while you deal with these new… developments.”

As if Sam’s parents ever let her be alone anymore. As if she could leave the house without bumping into a conspiracy nut, or a grieving family member, or an angry schoolmate who just didn’t understand why any of this happened. He talked to her as if there was any part of her life that was just for her. 

Leaving the office, Sam could pick out where she thought Josh would have sat. She tried to count how many steps it took her to get from the office to the elevator, then turned around and adjusted to his larger strides. She mumbled a joke he once told her while she went to the lobby.   
She played with his key chain (his mother gave Sam many of his things after the funeral. She liked the old Scream keychain the best) while her mother drove her home in silence. 

Most days, Sam didn’t wish that the Blackwood weekend didn’t happen. She just wished that she knew what Josh was going through. She wondered, if she had known about everything, that maybe she could’ve talked him down. That maybe she could have saved them all.

In the end, Sam kept living. She kept making the green smoothies and not-climbing the rock wall. She kept going to therapy (once a week, once every other week, once a month). She went to university, fell in love, got married. She lived a life that was full. 

She still woke up screaming. 

She still saw them in everything she did.

When she was eighty years old, after her partner died and she was known in town as “the lady who talks to herself”, she took a taxi, a bus, and a cable car up to Blackwood mountains. She didn’t bring food, or a spare change of clothes. She walked a path embedded in her mind, sharp as the last time she’d been there. 

Down in the mines, Sam sat down on a blanket and pulled eleven stones out of her bag. “If all of us are going to be down here, we might as well have some sort of marker for it.”

Later generations would come to condemn the Blackwood mines, and close the cable car up the mountain. The workers who did it came back with pale faces and heavy hearts, talking about how they could almost hear a soft chorus of voices singing softly into the night.  
Frere Jaques,  
Frere Jaques  
Dormez vouz?  
Dormez vouz?  
Sonnez les matines,  
Sonnez les matines.  
Ding dang dong,  
Ding Dang Dong.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! If there is anything you think I could tag for trigger warnings I would really appreciate the input! I'm still getting used to this website and it's formatting!   
> Much love,  
> Kingston  
> (Pansy's Goth GF)


End file.
